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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455614">Nice Sprites</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/corriander/pseuds/corriander'>corriander</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Death Note &amp; Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Halloween Challenge, Haunted Houses, Light Yagami sleeps a lot, M/M, Recovered Memories, Supernatural Elements, ghost l, kind of reincarnation, kinda fix-it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:55:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,788</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455614</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/corriander/pseuds/corriander</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Light moves into a haunted apartment and kind of wants its inhabitant to stay for a little bit longer. Semi-reincarnation AU.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>L/Yagami Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nice Sprites</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zara_Zara/gifts">Zara_Zara</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just a short drabble of Ghostly!L for Halloween and Jess, of course.<br/>Prewarning: I rushed the shit out of this and there is no editing, I'm sorry. It was meant to be around 800 words but it uh, got dragged along a bit more than I expected.<br/>Here's to some (late) spooky vibes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s a new place, of course it’s going to take a bit of time to get used to. Light reminds himself of this for the fourth time as he shifts around in bed, sticking his foot out from under the covers because he can’t quite figure out if he’s too hot or too cold. Or, somehow both. </p><p>It’s not that he regrets leaving home, far from it. It’s more that something feels... not quite right in this new apartment. Maybe it’s the fact that the water in the shower never gets any hotter than lukewarm, or that his bed always seems to have a mysterious dent in it whenever he returns from work.  </p><p>And more importantly, that one time he was rummaging through the fridge for a midnight snack and found a slice of cheesecake hiding behind his carrot sticks. He most definitely didn’t put <em>that </em>in his fridge. He doesn’t even eat cake, it’s a waste of calories.  </p><p>The only logical explanation Light can give for this is that maybe small goblins are sneaking in during the day to use up all his hot water and nap in his bed. Leaving behind unwanted sugary gifts in his kitchen when they’re finished. </p><p>Yeah. Probably not. It’s far-fetched, but the only more realistic – and frightening – thing Light can think of is that Misa’s the one doing the breaking in since they ended their relationship last year. Except, well, she’s currently in Paris. Literally away in a different country. He knows this because it’s in the fucking newspapers he reads every morning and he can’t ignore it even if he tried.  </p><p><em> It’s just a new place, </em>Light tells himself again, just for good measure. He forces his eyes shut and wills himself to drift off to sleep. He’s just been stressed and not noticing what he’s been doing, that’s all. He needs to stop overthinking things or he’ll start imagining more. </p><p>Sleep comes slowly, and the last thing Light remembers seeing is the blurred image of bare feet standing next to the edge of his bed. Then, it’s just black and Light doesn’t- </p><hr/><p><em> Hazy</em>. That’s the first word that comes to Light’s mind as he stands on the edge of the rooftop with rain smashing down on his face. The city skyline is far, far below him and while he can make out the vague shapes of lesser buildings, nothing quite stands out to him. Maybe it’s the rain blurring his vision, but he has a weird feeling that if he were to reach out, he wouldn’t feel anything at all. Not even the rain itself. </p><p>“Light.” </p><p>It’s his name. He makes a move to turn around but finds himself stuck to the spot, his feet glued to the floor. His name sounds strange, coming from an unrecognizable voice behind him. He tries to open his mouth but finds that it won’t move either. </p><p>“What are you doing out there, Light? You’ll get sick if you don’t come back in.” </p><p>He wants to scream. He wants to turn around so badly, but his body just won’t fucking move. If only he could just take a step back and- </p><p>The sound of ringing bells cuts in, hollowing out the static sound of the rain and the voice calling out to him blends into the background. The bells are distant, probably coming from one of the spires closer to the inner city, Light doesn’t know how he knows this. </p><p>Nor does he know why the bells sound like death rattle to him. Suddenly his feet hurt and his ears are roaring and everything is white. </p><hr/><p>Light wakes up with a gasp, the sweat-dampened bed sheet clinging to his back as he forces himself to sit up against the bed head. He can feel the morning sun coming through the window to gently warm up his face, he leans back and welcomes it.  </p><p>It was just a weird dream, nothing to get worked up over. </p><p>He checks his watch and swears out the corner of his mouth; he’s meant to be at work in just under an hour, leaving him barely any time to have a shower and throw on his clothes. He scrambles out of bed and throws himself into the bathroom, only <em>just </em>missing the dent at the end of his bed where his feet were just minutes ago. </p><p>Light stumbles out the apartment with an apple in his hand, grabbed quickly from the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. Of course, he didn’t notice the cookie next to it either. </p><hr/><p>It goes like this for the following week; Light has a nightmare, always something that feels vaguely familiar and foreign at the same time. He wakes up covered in sweat, then forces himself into the shower, gets dressed, and heads off to work. And when he returns home, he finds remnants of sweets wrappers and cookie crumbs lying around the floor. He ignores it because Light doesn’t like to acknowledge things he can’t understand. </p><p>Rinse. Repeat.  </p><p>The routine doesn’t change. And while Light feels somewhat confused by the events, he doesn’t feel that whatever’s doing it is malevolent in any way. In fact, it almost seems to be saying <em>welcome home, Light</em>. That’s what he thinks he hears, anyway. It’s the first thing that pops up in his mind. </p><p>The first time something actually notable happens is when he gets out the shower one night, the steam in the room fogging up the bathroom mirror so that he can’t make out his own reflection. Light doesn’t think anything of it at first, doesn’t question how a lukewarm shower could cause so much fog when it just <em>doesn’t work like that</em>. He just continues drying his hair with a towel draped around his waist, ruffling up his scalp over the sink. </p><p>It happens when he looks up at the mirror. Instead of his own reflection staring back, he’s greeted with the sudden appearance of a pale-faced man with black hair. Light almost screams. </p><p>“What the-” he stammers, turning around to check that no intruder had gotten in behind him. Nope. Nothing. Light turns back around to the mirror. </p><p>There’s nothing there. Just Light. </p><p>“It’s just a trick of the lighting,” he whispers, trying to convince himself that it’s true. He can believe that, mostly. </p><hr/><p>As it turns out, it’s not a trick of the lighting. Light finds this out the hard way. </p><p>It’s a Saturday night and Light’s in bed, he doesn’t have anywhere pressing to be the following day so he lets himself stay up late to read. He can hear the city hum in the background, the sound of cars and people and laughter echoing in from his window. It’s oddly peaceful. When he puts his book down and prepares to turn his bedside lamp off, Light finally notices the figure sitting at the edge of his bed. </p><p>He knocks the glass of water off from his bedside table in a panic, not caring about how it smashes onto the floor and leaves a mess. “Fuck!” he shouts and makes a stand to <em>get the fuck out of his bed </em>and run to the kitchen and grab a knife. </p><p>He only makes it as far as standing before the figure speaks. </p><p>“Light, is that you?” </p><p>He pauses, only for a moment, and he thinks his heart might beat out of his throat and land somewhere on his bedspread. “Who are you and how do you know me?” </p><p>He can’t move. But this time, it’s not a nightmare. It’s real.  </p><p>“So, you are Light. That’s interesting.” </p><p><em> What? </em> </p><p>“How did you get in here?” Light swallows, and then repeats, “and who are you?” </p><p>The figure speaks softly, still sitting at the end of his bed patiently. “I live here, I think. And I know you, I think I do, at least.” </p><p>And that... literally makes no sense. Not in any form or shape whatsoever. </p><p>“What the hell are you talking about? I live here now. If you’re a squatter, I’ll have to ask you to leave or else I’ll call the police,” Light tries to speak confidently, but his stomach is dropping and something in his gut is telling him that something happening here is just so <em>wrong, wrong, wrong. </em> </p><p>“I can’t leave.” </p><p>Light breathes in sharply, “Then come out of the shadows, let me see who you are.” </p><p>The figure nods, from what Light can see in the darkness. It stands up from the end of his bed and moves closer, so that it’s standing directly beside his bedroom window with the light from the moon highlighting its face. </p><p>It’s the same man Light saw in the mirror before. A mess of sharp cheekbones, black hair and unblinking dark eyes. He looks awfully thin, and for a moment Light really does think he’s just another squatter who must have lived in the apartment before he moved in. But then Light looks at his hands and see’s something that makes his blood freeze in his veins. </p><p>The man’s hands are translucent, and Light can see the pattern of his bedspread peeking through the gaps in his skin.  </p><p>And once again, Light hears the bells chime.  </p><hr/><p>Light opens his eyes to find himself faced with a nice view of the ceiling fan whirling above him. </p><p><em> Just another dream? </em> </p><p>He feels sweaty. Cold, clammy skin on his forehead that doesn’t match the tight, hot feeling in his chest. He’s breathing on autopilot and he doesn’t know how his body manages to keep responding when his mind can’t even keep it together. </p><p>“Are you okay? I think you fainted.” </p><p><em> Not a dream after all. </em> </p><p>Light lifts his head in a panic, sitting up so fast that the blood rushing from his head makes him feel off-balance and dizzy. He looks over to see the man sitting next to him now, his see-through hands resting gently on the edge of Light’s pillow. He wants to hurl up his last meal. </p><p>“You’re not real,” Light splutters out, elegant as usual. “I can see right through you.” </p><p>The man goes quiet, only for a second though. “Oh? I’m not too sure. I think I’m real, but I’ve been here for such a long time that I don’t know who I am anymore,” he pauses, and Light’s heart sits heavy at the top of his lungs as he waits for the man to continue. “I know you’re Light Yagami though. That, I’m completely sure of.” </p><p>Light breathes in, forcing himself to calm down. It’s hard, but he manages to slow his heart rate down from causing an impending stroke. “How can you know me? We’ve never met before.” </p><p>It’s quiet for a few seconds, and Light allows his hands to fall loosely against his side. Everything still feels off, so utterly wrong, but it doesn’t feel <em>bad</em>. Not in any way at all. He should be afraid, he should be a lot of things right now, but he feels eerily calm for the situation at hand. </p><p>The man speaks again, “I can’t leave this place.” </p><p>It doesn’t make sense, no matter how many times Light repeats it in his head. Then he glances down at the translucent hands resting on his pillow, the way the patterns shine through so that Light can see the fine detail of the stitching in the material. </p><p>And then he realizes it. </p><p>Oh. <em>Oh. </em> </p><p>“You’re dead,” Light says matter-of-factly. “That’s why you’re stuck here.” He doesn’t know how it’s coming out of his mouth so calmly; any normal person would have screamed by now and run out of the apartment like it’s on fire. But then again, Light’s always been adaptable to strange and unexpected events. It’s just how he’s always been. </p><p>The man nods, “You’re probably right. I don’t remember though. I don’t remember dying.” </p><p>Light wants to laugh, it’s too surreal. He can feel a headache beginning to form behind his eyes and the last place he wants to be is sitting on his bed talking to a dead person who apparently knows him.  </p><p>“You’re scared. I’m sorry, that was never my intention,” the man says softly, and Light wants to tell him to shut the fuck up because he feels completely blown away right now. He’s managed to stay calm for the majority of this, but he can feel the adrenaline beginning to roar up inside of him. </p><p>“No, I’m not scared. I just don’t know what I’m meant-” </p><p>The man breaks him off with a sigh, sounding disappointed. “Go back to sleep, Light. I don’t think I did it right.” </p><p>Light wants to ask <em> did what? </em> But before he can open his mouth, he finds himself falling back onto the bed with the sudden sleepiness that takes over his body. The bed feels so inviting, and Light can still see the translucent hand pressing up against his face on the pillow as he shuts his eyes and falls asleep. </p><hr/><p><em> “L, this is my son, Light. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help with the Kira investigation, and I wanted to thank you for allowing us to be part of this. It’s a privilege to be working with you and your team.” </em> </p><p><em> “It’s lovely to meet you, Light Yagami.” </em> </p><hr/><p>Light wakes. And he instantly confirms to himself that whatever just happened before was most definitely <em>not </em>a dream. He also has visual evidence supporting this fact in the form of the man currently chewing down on a cookie in the corner of his room.  </p><p>“You’re still here?” Light asks, squeezing his eyes shut as the morning sun hits him directly in the face. </p><p>The man pauses his eating, still holding the cookie in one hand. “Well, I haven’t been anywhere in a long time, so I highly doubt I’ll be going anywhere else any time soon.” </p><p>Light stares at him. Literally just stares, refusing to blink in case his ghostly guest suddenly decides to pull a disappearing act and leave more cookie crumbs on the floor.  </p><p>Light sighs, “Do you know why you’re stuck here?” </p><p>“Nope. All I know is that I know you, and I think I’ve been waiting for you for most of the time I’ve spent here.” </p><p>“That’s not exactly helpful,” Light responds. </p><p>“I know.” </p><hr/><p>It goes like this; Light wakes up, talks to the strange ghost residing in his apartment, hurries off to work and then returns home to continue his conversation with said ghost. It’s a new experience, at least. </p><p>Plus, his presence makes Light feel warmer somehow. Even though it should be doing the opposite. Dead people aren’t meant to make you feel nice inside, they’re not meant to make you want to stay. Which is exactly how Light feels. He wants to stay around this ghost for some irrational reason.  </p><p>They talk about mundane things. Light’s favourite books, his work at the police force, how proud he is of his sister for finishing high school. He asks the ghost if he has any family but he just gets the same reply; <em> I can’t remember. </em> </p><p>Light doesn’t ask the man how he seems to know Light again, even though he’s curious about it. He wants to ask, he really does. But he knows that if he does he’ll just be hit with the same monotone response; <em> I don’t know</em>. It makes Light want to punch something, or cry.  </p><p>It all comes to surface one night though, hours after Light’s been tossing and turning in his bed whilst struggling to fall asleep. He dreams strange things; of the ghost in his apartment drying his feet after standing out in the rain, tennis matches with thinly veiled aggression, tea and biscuits and a bowl of Eton Mess. Light dreams of cradling the ghost in his arms, watching as his watch ticks 40 seconds past and the light in his eyes fading into nothingness. He hears the name <em> L </em> and wakes with a gasp. </p><p>The cavity in his chest where his heart’s meant to be hurts, and Light finds the ghost named L standing above his bed with the saddest expression Light’s ever seen. He starts to cry, and L’s hands drift forward to cup his face, letting the tears fall through his translucent skin and onto Light’s shirt. </p><p>“It’s okay, Light. Thank you. I know now, and I forgive you.” </p><hr/><p>“Do you think one day, in another life, we would have been friends?” Light asks, he’s staring at the ceiling fan with raw, wet eyes. L’s still sitting next to him, rubbing at his shoulder gently. </p><p>“I’ve been waiting for you this whole time. I don’t think there will ever be a life without us in it. I’ll find you, each and every time.” </p>
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